Robert Thirdwall - Swap Talk

This wasn't enough for Vicky, though. She kept bringing me just to the point of climax and then letting me down. Then she pulled her head back and got Sue Ann to kneel on the couch. Vicky guided my penis up Sue Ann's cunt, and the union was made. There was scarcely any need to move. Just feeling Sue Ann's creamy inside and staring at those big tits was enough to bring me to the brink again. But Vicky still had other ideas. She climbed onto the couch and stood straddling between us facing me. For the first time, but hardly the last, I switched from sucking one cunt, a light blonde, fringed one, to sucking another, buried in jet black fur in only a few minutes. Vicky was gooey and sweet, and she held my head hard against her crack. Sue Ann shoved a finger all the way up her ass, and I reached between her legs to pull at Sue Ann's big nipples. The whole pose was rather cumbersome, but for a few seconds before I came, it was heaven. I blasted inside Sue Ann, and then we unraveled ourselves. I finished sucking Vicky off and watched her lick my jism out of Sue Ann, which gave her a climax."

"And after that, would you believe it, we played threehanded bridge until the end of visiting hours," Sue Ann said, smiling.

At that point I asked, "So Roger married you because you were a better lay than your roommate?"

Sue Ann answered, "No. The second semester Vicky came down with mononucleosis and dropped out of school. We got married our senior year basically because we liked each other so much and had such great times together."

Roger continued from there. "There wasn't any starting to it, really; we were both pretty active up to the wedding. We kept on screwing the people we'd been screwing with before we married. Of course, they gradually left town. But we met others, including other married couples, and when I took a job in P. we already had some contacts through correspondence. Frank and Marie Cordoba were one contact. It was sheer coincidence that they happened to be at your party. I remember we were worried that the party would he a real drag, and Sue Ann had dressed conservatively. Then we walked in, and there was little Marie, whom I had never met before but whose picture I had savored for some time. She was even wearing the same clothes, except that in the picture she was lying back with her dress up and her twat showing. If you hadn't planned something that evening, the four of us would have done something anyway."

As I said, at the time of our first party, I was pretty oblivious of anyone's feelings or actions but my own. But as time went on, I became more aware. We four couples saw each other frequently and had some wonderful times. We'd go to the lake near P. for picnics. The girls would wear their skimpiest bikinis, and we'd play volleyball to make their tits come out. Since we sailed to the far side of the lake on Frank's boat, we enjoyed considerable privacy, not enough for nudity but enough for anything else.

Marie's bathing suit always turned me on in particular. It was a bikini, but instead of being made of thick elastic cloth with builtin bra cups, it was made of a soft, white silky material. It covered the proper areas, but it hung rather loosely. And when it got wet, it clung like crazy. The water would make her nipples stand up, and the bra would cling translucently to them. Below, her black triangle would show so you could almost see the separate hairs.

At night we'd make a fire and roast hot dogs and that sort of thing. Then we'd pair off around the fire and fuck and suck to our hearts' content. Finally we'd sail back in the moonlight.

Judy liked to lie on her back on the bow with her legs spread along the gunwales. If no other boats were out, she would take her suit off, and we would admire the moon reflecting on the swells of her breasts and highlighting her silky brown nest. We'd not only admire it: On more than one occasion I put my head between those moonlit legs and tongued the female crack that the silky brown hair crowned. Every time I did that, I would turn around when I had brought her off, and my heart would thrill at seeing Frank with one hand on the tiller and the other deep in my darling Helen's suit, fingering her slit.

I don't think I will ever get over that thrill I get from seeing my wife being handled sexually. At first it seemed just like new kicks, but as I have come to empathize more with her sensations while being handled by a man other than her husband and with the other guy's pleasure at feeling up or fucking someone else's wife, I have found the whole complex of sensations profoundly exciting and, surprisingly, satisfying.

What really turned me on to this sensation was the first party we went to held by swingers outside our own group. Frank and Marie had made a contact with this other group somehow, and after they had gone once and had a great time, they suggested that we be invited, too. This wasn't particularly fair to Dave and Judy and Roger and Sue Ann, but we agreed that we'd try to get them included in the future.

Frank warned us that the people in charge of this other group were rich and did things in a very sophisticated way, but even so we weren't prepared for an engraved invitation:

Edward and Penelope Unger Request the company of Robert and Helen Emery at a Privates Party Friday, September 22. RSVP marital tie

Helen chose her clothes with great care from her now rather substantial swinger's wardrobe. She decided on a soft white supermini that came just below crotch level. This was to show off the gorgeous tan she had been building up on her legs and thighs all summer. Beneath it she wore only a pair of openwork net panties. The dress divided at the navel into parts that tapered gradually to straps over her shoulders. Thus, her breasts were covered even if their soft inner curves weren't. Of course if she leaned over, the whole thing fell away.

The host's home was more like an estate, located in an expensive, wooded subdivision of P. His money, it seems, had come by inheritance from his father who founded a drill press factory. Several cars were already parked near the house at the end of the long entrance drive when we arrived. We had deliberately come a little late to avoid being first in an unfamiliar situation.

We were met at the door, to my great surprise, by a stunning, beautiful black girl in a floor length white evening gown. She introduced herself as Monica Marshall, a friend of the Ungers, and said she was delighted that we had come. The name Marshall registered as that of an insurance executive in town, but I promptly forgot about all that when she turned to lead us to the party. What drove the thought out of my mind was the plunging back of Monica's gown which went on and on revealing her smooth dark brown back, narrow waist and tight round buttocks. Only below the buttocks did the dress come together again to form the skirt.

The party room she ushered us into was magnificent. It was built for lounging with soft low furniture, deep pile carpeting and indirect lighting. Through French doors it opened onto a swimming pool with underwater illumination, and the breeze of the Indiansummer night was ideally soothing. There were about eight people in the room when we came in, but we were introduced only to the Ungers, and by the time we had finished chatting with them several more couples had arrived, including Frank and Marie.

Ed Unger was older than we were, about thirtyfive, but his blonde hair, bleached by the sun, and deep tan indicated that in all probability, he was an active outdoorsman. He must have been to maintain his hard, lean figure. Penelope, or Penny, was younger and equally tanned and athleticlooking. Her hair was either dyed platinumblonde, or she wore a wig. Her costume was full, gauzelike hostess pants of cerulean blue with a matching seethrough bolero which darkened and emphasized her saucy, turnedup nipples. She offered me her hand in greeting, and as we chatted and she expressed the hope that we would enjoy the party, she took my hands and pressed them right against her luscious tits. It struck me at the time as being terribly audacious, but when we then parted and I found out from Helen that Ed had slipped beneath her hemline and ever so briefly fingered her slit by way of welcome, I realized that audacity was the order of the evening.